The terror faded from her eyes. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. ’ Mrs Sindlesham’s lips twitched. “Are there others like you?” “Yes. ” She said. When I am angry, I can get very mean. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. I wouldn't touch the stuff for all the pearls in India.
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